


Hannibal Advent 2015

by coloredink



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Floating Canadian Shack, Food Porn, Food is People, Future Fic, Hannibal is Hannibal, Missing Scene, Multi, Murder Husbands, Platonic Cuddling, Prostate Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:10:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 6,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5454473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloredink/pseuds/coloredink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.  A collection of prompt fills for Hannibal Advent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. BDSM AU Continuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [okay but I just read that drabble about will and hannibal being in a bdsm relationship before jack introduces them and all i can think about is that one session of their therapy that freddie recorded and i. ??? feel like that should be written maybe?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/134382578347/okay-but-i-just-read-that-drabble-about-will-and)
> 
> ([previous installment](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4809926/chapters/11875562))

Will slid the piece of paper along Hannibal’s desk.  “This may have been premature.”

Hannibal looked at the letter.  It was still neat and uncreased; remarkable, given how Will tossed his bag willy-nilly.  Everything in it was probably crushed.  “They’ll revoke my rubber stamp.”

“Maybe they should,” Will muttered, not looking at Hannibal.

Ah.  So that was it.  Hannibal stood.  He left his fingertips pressed against the surface of his desk.  “Are you disrespecting me, boy?”

Will’s breath left him as if he’d been punched.  He still didn’t look at Hannibal.

“I asked you a question,” Hannibal said.  “Answer me, boy.”

“N-no, Sir.”

“Now you’re lying to me, which is worse.  You must want very badly to be punished.”  Hannibal opened the top drawer of his desk.  He spied paperclips in a magnetic holder; they would have to do.  He palmed the holder and made for the two chairs.  Will followed him as if he was on a leash.

Hannibal unscrewed the holder and poured the paperclips onto the floor between the chairs.  “Take off your pants and kneel.”

Will hesitated the barest fraction of a second before he did as he was told.  He even folded his pants neatly and placed them on one of the chairs first before kneeling on the paperclips.  He winced, but he didn’t make any sound.  He simply knelt, hands behind his back and head bowed.  Hannibal took his seat in the chair opposite.  He was close enough that he could use Will as an ottoman, but withholding touch was a more effective punishment for Will than anything else.

“Now,” said Hannibal.  “Tell me what you saw, out in the field.”


	2. Baking Together (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I just need this.... Will sneaking cookie dough (or something) while Hannibal is baking](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/134446444762/i-just-need-this-will-sneaking-cookie-dough)

“God, it smells amazing in here; what’ve you been working on all day?”  Will surveyed the kitchen.  There was no mess to betray what Hannibal had been up to, but it smelled like chocolate and Will could see that the stand mixer had been in use.  Hannibal was washing the bowls and beaters in the sink.

Also on the counter was a bowl of small white objects.  Will picked one up.  It looked like a mushroom, but it was not a mushroom.

“Don’t,” Hannibal warned, but Will had already put it in his mouth and crunched.  “Those are for the bûche de Noël,” he said, sounding rather peeved.

“There’s a whole bowlful here, you can spare a couple.”  Will ate another mushroom.  He still had no idea what it was.  It wasn’t sweet enough to be made entirely of sugar, but it crunched and disappeared when he bit into it.  He ate another one, just to experience it again.

“There won’t be any left, if you continue at that rate.”  Hannibal dried his hands.

Will popped another one into his mouth.

Hannibal sighed, nostrils flaring.  “You’re testing me.”

“I’m also starving,” Will pointed out.  “Lunch is late because you decided you had to bake a cake.”  He picked up another mushroom.

“Yes, yes,” Hannibal said.  “Fine.  Let’s see what’s in the fridge for lunch.  Now leave the mushrooms in peace.”


	3. Finding a Gift (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt: Will tries to find Hannibal a present and encounters difficulties.](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/134513866582/prompt-will-tries-to-find-hannibal-a-present-and)

“Is there anything you want for Christmas?” Will asked.

“I have everything I want,” Hannibal replied.  He had cut the dough into four pieces and was now rolling one of them into a thin log.  “You said it was beautiful.”

“That’s very romantic,” said Will.  “But you’re certainly going to get  _me_  something.”

“I already have,” Hannibal conceded.  “It’s not much.  A small physical token.”

“Yeah, well, it’s going to be very awkward when you present me with a small physical token and I have nothing.”

“Hmmm.”  Hannibal judged his dough cylinder to be long enough, apparently, and started on another one.  “Well, there are tokens of other, differently physical natures.”

Will gaped at Hannibal.  “Did you just make a dirty joke?”

“Surely you’ve seen me do it from time to time,” Hannibal replied without looking up.

“I can’t tell if that was another dirty joke or not,” Will said.  “And I’m not giving you a blowjob for Christmas.”

“How do you know that’s the physical token I was requesting?”  Hannibal looked up then, and Will, as always, was shocked breathless by the sharp weight of that gaze.

“I’m not giving you someone’s liver, either,” Will said, finally.

“Pity,” said Hannibal, and he rolled out another log.


	4. Speaking French (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [If you're still taking prompts for advent, how about Hannibal reacting to hearing Will speak Cajun French for the first time?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/134570015857/if-youre-still-taking-prompts-for-advent-how)

“Do you speak  _any_  other languages?” Hannibal asked.  There was water all around them.  They were trying to decide where to land.

“I grew up in America,” Will said.  “I’ve barely left the country.”

“You were a police officer,” Hannibal pointed out.

Will sighed.  “I speak a little bit of Spanish and a little bit of Creole French.”

Hannibal brightened.  “French?”

“ _Creole_  French.  It’s not the same.  I guarantee that I will not be the least intelligible to an actual French person.  Or even a French Canadian.”

“Let me hear it.”

Will cleared his throat.  “Lamin anler.”

After a pause, when it became clear that that was all Will was going to say, Hannibal ventured, “What did that mean?”

“'Hands up’,” Will said.

“Ah,” said Hannibal.

“I also know ‘Where is he,’ and ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’” Will supplied.

“Perhaps Latin America, then,” Hannibal said.  “Your Spanish can hardly be any worse.”


	5. Prostate Milking (Hannibal/Will, explicit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Hannibal milking Will's prostate prompt please :)](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/134638597852/hannibal-milking-wills-prostate-prompt-please)

Hannibal gasped, and Will froze.

“Yes, there,” Hannibal said in a strangled voice. “Avoid the center; rub only the edges. Not too hard.”

Will did as he was told, keeping his eyes on Hannibal’s face all the while. He didn’t have to move very much at all for Hannibal to twitch and pant. Hannibal’s head tipped back, and his eyes slid shut. His mouth fell open. Sweat stood out on his forehead and his chest. His cock was so hard it looked painful, but Hannibal made no move to touch it; he had his hands fisted in the sheets. Either Hannibal possessed an immense amount of self-discipline, or he was so soaked in pleasure that he couldn’t move.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Will asked.

Hannibal breathed hard for a few seconds before shaking his head.

The room fell silent, save for the sound of Hannibal’s labored breathing. Time fell in small, steady drips. It was so easy to believe that nothing existed beyond this dark room, this bed, them. Will, penetrating Hannibal, and Hannibal, allowing Will to do this to him.

“God, I love seeing you like this,” Will whispered.

Hannibal couldn’t answer. He only swallowed, his eyes still closed and facing heaven. And Will loved that too, that he had made Hannibal speechless.


	6. Whiskey Maxx (Will, Beverly)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [prompt for a thing where maybe Will did like a small not explicit porno when he was younger to pay for college fees and like years later as they're questioning a witness said person recognizes will and is like 'hey are you from that one vid' and Wills like shit](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/134709560612/prompt-for-a-thing-where-maybe-will-did-like-a)

The guy kept staring at Will.

Well, not quite  _staring_.  He looked like he was actually trying quite hard to listen to Jack, and sometimes he did focus long enough to answer a question.  But his eyes kept sliding over to Will, as if he couldn’t help himself.  Will, for his part, kept his back to the wall, his arms crossed, and his gaze off to the side.

Suddenly, the guy blurted out, “Whiskey Maxx?”

The entire room froze.  Beverly was the first to look at Will.  The others followed, including, slowly, Jack.  To his credit, the witness looked a little chagrined.

“Excuse me?” said Will.

“Shit, sorry,” said the guy.  “You just uh, you looked like someone I uh--”

“I really don’t want to take up any more of your time,” said Jack, and the guy snapped back into focus.  “So if you could please just answer the question.”

Will let out his breath and leaned against the wall.

But his peace was not to last: he was riding back to the motel with Beverly, and as soon as the car reached the speed limit she said, “ _Whiskey Maxx_?  What is that, a porn name?  Oh my God, did you used to do porn?”

Will banged his head against the headrest.  “Will you just let it go?”

“Oh my God, you did!” Beverly shrieked.

“It was  _two videos_!” Will protested.  “I was in college, it was, oh my God, twenty years ago.”

“What kind of porn was it?  The guy recognized you, so he was actually looking at you--was it gay porn??”

“No!” Will yelped; he could feel his face growing hot.  “I mean, it was a solo video.  They were.  Solo videos.  Oh my God, can we not talk about this anymore?”  He put both hands over his face.

“Okay, okay.”  Will couldn’t see Beverly’s face, but he was sure she was grinning at him in that friendly and affectionate way.  “Sorry.  It’s just.  It’s hard to imagine, you know?”

“Then don’t.”  Will let his hands slide down his face.  “It was a long time ago.  I needed the money.  My dad wouldn’t help me.  It wasn’t fun.”  His father had barely finished high school, and he’d never understood Will’s hunger for knowledge and his overwhelming desire to escape their lives of crushing poverty.  Will wouldn’t have taken any of his money anyway; he barely had enough for himself.

The car went quiet.  “I’m sorry,” Beverly said.

“It’s okay.”  Will looked out the window.  “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”


	7. The Beard (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt: Hannibal liking a thing about Will that Will doesn't like about himself (other than the whole... Murder Thing.)](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/134761036997/prompt-hannibal-liking-a-thing-about-will-that)

Will was growing a beard.

A true, full beard, not the scruff on his face he’d had back in their Baltimore days.  He kept it well groomed, and it grew in dark and fine, except for where the scar sliced through it.  Once the beard came in all the way, the scar would be noticeable but not disfiguring.

Hannibal caught Will frowning at himself in the mirror one day, prodding himself in the face with two fingers.   _Darling_ , he wanted to say,  _you’re beautiful._    _Darling, I want to ravish you every minute, twice a minute with that beard.  Darling, you’re perfect._

“It’s fine,” he said.  

“It draws too much attention,” Will said, the corners of his mouth turned down.  “It makes me too recognizable.”

Hannibal came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Will’s waist.  Will continued to scowl at his reflection.   “You worry too much, Will.”

“One of us has to,” Will grumbled.

Hannibal turned his head to nuzzle Will’s neck.  “You really need to learn how to relax.”  Will made an exasperated noise.  “I like it,” Hannibal went on.  He pressed a kiss to the side of Will’s face, over the scar.  “It reminds me that this is real.”


	8. Hannibal Draws Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Hannibal drawing Will?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/134842051002/hannibal-drawing-will)

Hannibal must leave the drawings out intentionally for Will to find; he was too precise and methodical in his actions to simply “forget” them.  Will glanced at them and was impressed on a technical level.  He was no expert, but they seemed to him to be flawless: the interior of his old office in Baltimore; illustrations from anatomy textbooks; reproductions of classic paintings.

This one was different.  Will found it while rummaging around in a drawer in Hannibal’s office, looking for a pencil to do the crossword.  His fingers came away smudged with graphite, and he pulled out a thick sketchbook leaf bearing his own face.  His teeth were bared in a feral snarl and his face was shaded dark with blood, eyes glaring out from below a fringe of sweaty, matted hair.

“Will?”  Hannibal poked his head into the room.  “Ah.”  He said, and waited.

“Did I look like this?”  Will lifted the paper for Hannibal to see.

“I will never forget it,” Hannibal said, his voice rough.

Will looked down at the drawing again.  It bore no resemblance to the stiff, sterile reproductions stacked on top of the desk.  Will could taste his own blood in his mouth, just looking at it.  "Is this how you see me?”

Hannibal did not reply.

Will put the paper down, reverently.  “It’s beautiful.”


	9. Impressed (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Hannibal is impressed by something Will's done?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/134887017252/hannibal-is-impressed-by-something-wills-done)

“This is very good,” Hannibal said.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” said Will.  “I fish; I know how to fucking cook fish.”

The boat had a modest kitchen: two burners, an oven, and shock of shocks, a microwave.  Will had wrapped their catch in foil with butter, salt, and pepper and stuck it in the oven.  There was a small store of dried herbs in the cupboard, but he was of the opinion that good, fresh fish didn’t need much.

Hannibal ate like he was starving, with as little dignity as Will had ever seen on him, surely burning his mouth in the process.  He slowed when he saw Will watching him.

“Does the food at the BSHCI still suck?” Will asked.

Hannibal gave a snort of laughter.  “It would be praise to call it food,” he said.

Laughing pulled at the stitches in Will’s face.  “I almost wish I’d been there to see that.  You eating Salisbury Steak–”

“The worst was the fish,” Hannibal said.  “Rubbery filets, always overcooked.  I dreaded the grilled salmon.  The fried chicken was passable.”

“They had fried chicken?!” Will yelped.  “I never had any fucking fried chicken.  God.  Alana really classed the place up.”

Hannibal turned his fish over to pick at the other side.  Will watched him suck on the fishbones, to remove every little vestige of meat.

“I missed your cooking,” Will said.  Hannibal glanced up at him, and Will looked back down at his half-eaten fish.

Foil rustled on the other side of the tiny galley table.  “I missed cooking for you.”

“Okay,” said Will.  “Then you can cook, next time.”


	10. Just Cuddling (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I wonder what'd happen if Hannigram actually ended up with no sex for the rest of their life?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/134967796222/i-wonder-whatd-happen-if-hannigram-actually-ended) Like, if they are content withintent cuddling or something. Are there any post 3x13 fic where they just have non sexual relationship?
> 
> ([previous installment](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/130001053822/please-can-i-ask-you-for-some-hannigram-fic-recs))

Hannibal is asleep.

Will lies awake, listening to Hannibal breathe.  Hannibal snores, just a little, which Will finds strangely reassuring.  He has no idea what he sounds like in his sleep; if he snores, Hannibal has never complained about it.

Sleep, when it comes, is fitful.  Will doesn’t startle awake from nightmares anymore: he wakes because he’s in pain; because a particularly large wave has sent the boat pitching and reeling; because he’s hungry or thirsty.  Will lies awake now, trying to identify what it is that drew him out of slumber.

Finally, he slides out of his berth and makes his way across the cabin to Hannibal’s, his blanket trailing behind him like a bridal train.  Hannibal is lying on his back, his head tipped to the side and the blankets pulled up to his chin.  His face is slack with sleep.  Will doesn’t look at him as he climbs into the berth beside him.

Hannibal rouses.  “Will?” His voice is blurry with sleep.

“Yeah,” Will says.  “Never mind, just go back to sleep.”

Hannibal mumbles something that might be an assent and goes quiet again.  Will curls up on his side, his face pressed into Hannibal’s shoulder, and drifts off.

–

The next morning, Will opens his eyes to find Hannibal already awake, sitting propped up in his berth and just watching Will.  It’s a little creepy.  Will lets out his breath in a long sigh.

“Is this going to be a regular occurrence?” Hannibal asks.

Will gathers a bit of blanket into his fist.  “No.  I mean, it doesn’t have to be.”

“I don’t disapprove, if that’s your concern,” said Hannibal.  He lies back down.  Their faces are inches apart.  “Only, I was under the impression you didn’t care for it.”

Will swallows.  “Not the, uh–”   _Sex.  Say it.  You don’t want to have sex, but you want to cuddle_.  “But--”

“It’s all right, Will,” Hannibal says.  “You worry too much.”


	11. Anyone Else (Hannibal/Will, character death)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt where maybe Hannibal DID kill Will and maybe he's haunted by the ghost or the memory of him?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135010402602/prompt-where-maybe-hannibal-did-kill-will-and)

If it had been anyone else, Hannibal would have taken only the organs, perhaps a choice piece of thigh or back or cheek.  But this wasn’t anyone else, and so Hannibal had to have the whole thing, or he would have nothing.

“This isn’t exactly the smartest thing you’ve ever done,” Will said.

If it had been anyone else, Hannibal would have dismembered the body for easier storage, packed it with ice to make it last.  But Hannibal wanted to look at him for as long as he could.  He’d been longer without this nourishment than he’d had it.  Hannibal tossed the water-logged clothing into the sea and laid the bare, cold corpse on one of the berths in the cabin.

“Pre-brined,” said Will.  “I would avoid the liver, though.  Probably damaged from excessive drinking.”

If it had been anyone else, Hannibal would not have sat on the edge of the berth and touched like this.  All the places he had yet to touch, all of it cold and stiff.  He ended with the press of his lips to the corpse’s face, just below the clotted stab wound.

“What’re you going to do?” Will asked.

Hannibal didn’t know.  Will had always managed to surprise him.


	12. Wood Nymph (Hannibal, Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so im assuming you've seen that [wood nymph pic of beautiful Hugh Dancy](https://36.media.tumblr.com/d4ee9519f52669077d1a77f53d8b78c9/tumblr_inline_nyesoxSh3A1rye435_540.jpg) (which is so annoying God how can anyone be so beautiful), anyways could I prompt you for [young(ish) Hannibal coming to paint some landscapes when he comes across young wood nymph Will studying and so hannibal paints him?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135078914217/so-im-assuming-youve-seen-that-wood-nymph-pic-of)

Hannibal remained behind the tree for a few moments, watching.  He had never seen one of the spirits before, though he came to this wood often to draw and reflect.  They were shy of humans, even more so since humans had begun encroaching on the forest with guns and axes.  This one had its head bent over a book, long hair falling across its delicate features.  Hannibal hadn’t known that they could read human letters.

Intriguing.

He took his seat–carefully, carefully–on the fallen log.  He opened his sketchbook slowly, so as not to rustle the pages, and drew his pencils out of his satchel.  The nymph remained in place, frowning in its studies.  Hannibal began to draw.  The spirit turned a page in its book.  Hannibal laid down the broad outlines as quickly as he could, in case something happened and the spirit fled.  The spirit put the tip of its thumb in its mouth and chewed on the nail.  It was such a quaintly human gesture that Hannibal stared, forgetting about the pencil in his hand.

“I know you’re there,” the spirit said, without looking up.  Hannibal just barely managed to rescue his sketchbook from sliding onto the ground.  “It’s rude, you know, to just spy on someone without saying anything.”

“My apologies,” said Hannibal.  “I would never wish to be rude.  I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“Are you a student at the university?” said the nymph.  He looked up now, and Hannibal wasn’t sure he could move.

“Yes,” Hannibal said, with some difficulty.  He cleared his throat.

“Then maybe you can help me,” said the nymph.  He pointed down at the open page of his book.  “I don’t understand this.  I don’t know if he’s writing about something real or imagined.”

“What is it?” Hannibal asked.

“It’s  _The Divine Comedy_.  Do you know it?”

“Oh,” said Hannibal.  “Yes.  Yes, I do.”


	13. Surviving Separation (Hannibal, Will, Will's dogs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt! S4 Will and Hannibal on the run staying in a fancy but small apartment. Hannibal realizes Will misses his dogs so he gets him a stuffed toy dog.](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135171023502/prompt-s4-will-and-hannibal-on-the-run-staying-in)

“This is cozy,” Will remarked.

The apartment would have been cozy for one; for two it was close. One bedroom, one bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. But Hannibal and Will were close, and it was just as well that at home they would never be much more than twenty feet apart. Both their curiosities had been satisfied as to whether or not they would survive separation.

And so they always went out together: to the market, to the fishmonger, to the bakery, to the chemist. They passed dogs: dogs lying under the tables on restaurant patios; dogs tied up outside of shops; dogs being walked a dozen at a time by professional dog walkers; stray dogs skulking down alleys. Hannibal might not have noticed them had he not had to watch where he stepped, as the sidewalks were littered with the evidence of all these dogs. It was a miracle Will didn’t ruin his shoes, because his eyes followed the dogs, especially the strays with their piteous expressions.

“Oh,” he said, at one point. “That one looks just like Buster.”

“Buster.” Hannibal rifled through his memories. The ones about Will’s dogs were not kept very close to the front. “Ah, the little one. A Jack Russell Terrier.”

“Yeah.” Will sounded surprised. “You remembered.”

Hannibal was more surprised that Buster was still alive, all these years later. “He was very charismatic.”

Will gave a little rusty laugh. “Yeah, he was. Is.”

That evening, after dinner, Hannibal retired to his corner of the living room with his sketchpad and his pencils. Will knew well enough to leave Hannibal alone when he was in a drawing mood, and Hannibal let the noise of Will puttering about recede into the background. He only looked up when Will touched him on the shoulder to say, “I’m going to bed.” And then, “What are you drawing?”

Hannibal held the pad up toward Will. “I don’t know if it’s a very good likeness,” he said. “I’m not used to drawing animals.”

Will’s jaw hung open as he took the pad. Hannibal had drawn his dogs, or at least the seven that he knew from the Wolf Trap days. God only knew what had happened to the pack in the years intervening. They lounged in the grass in various states of repose, jaws open and tongues lolling out. Buster was in the forefront, lying on his back with all four paws waving in the air.

“It’s perfect,” Will said.


	14. Tabasco Sauce (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [prompt - will puts salt (or ketchup etc) on something hannibal makes for him](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135237228427/prompt-will-puts-salt-or-ketchup-etc-on)

“Do we have any Tabasco sauce?” Will asked.

Hannibal paused with his fork over his plate and raised his eyebrows at Will.  “Tabasco?”

“For the potatoes,” Will clarified.

Hannibal had been almost giddy at the prospect of making breakfast for Will.  It was an intimate meal, enjoyed by people who had spent the night together previously.  Hannibal had set out to please Will and so had spared no pains to prepare him the “all-American” breakfast: buttermilk pancakes, bacon, eggs, and hash browns.  He had even made Will’s eggs to order (it turned out he liked them fried until they were crispy at the edges), and he had paid special attention to the hash brows, wringing the excess water out of the shredded potato out in a tea towel so that they would crisp well in the pan.

“Is there something the matter with the potatoes?” Hannibal queried.

“No, they’re great,” said Will.  “I just like hot sauce on them.”

He got up to rummage in the refrigerator.  Hannibal ate a bite of his hash browns.  He was certain they were perfectly seasoned.  And yet Will wanted to put spicy vinegar on them.

Will returned with the glass bottle of Heinz ketchup he’d insisted on for their burgers.  “I can’t believe we have three kinds of mustard but no Tabasco,” he said.  “Remind me to pick some up at the store next time.”  He unscrewed the white cap and tipped the bottle over his plate, giving the bottom a hard smack.  Red ooze spilled out onto the potatoes and eggs.

Hannibal swallowed.  “Yes, of course,” he said, and went back to his own breakfast.


	15. Prison Wedding (Hannibal/Will, Alana)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're taking prompt requests? How about Will and Hannibal, imprisoned together for the crime of being Murder Husbands, deciding to [actually get married? Something on the lighter side, please, and if you want to include exasperated Alana as their witness, all the better.](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135282442422/youre-taking-prompt-requests-how-about-will-and)

“You cannot prohibit us,” Hannibal said.  “It is our legal right.”

Alana pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes.  “You know the rules, Hannibal.  No contact.  You’re not supposed to be within thirty feet of each other.”

“Then you’d better find us a very large room to marry in.”

Alana met his eyes through the glass.  Hannibal looked very smug.  “You don’t even know that Will wants this.”

“Then you don’t know our relationship at all.”

—

“Hannibal and I want to get married,” Will said before Alana had even finished saying hello, and she spent a very paranoid three hours after their conversation wondering if they were communicating somehow.  But their cells were on opposite ends of the hospital, and Alana had made sure that none of their staff overlapped.

“This is a bad idea,” Crawford said to her.  “They’re up to something.”

“Don’t I know it,” Alana said grimly.  “But they’re right; I can’t stop them.”

“If I were you,” said Crawford, “I’d make sure to take a sick day.”

“Are you kidding?” Alana said.  “I’m going to be one of the witnesses, and I’m going to be armed.”

—

The day came.  Hannibal insisted on being well dressed for the occasion, even if no one would be able to see it under the straitjacket.  Will actually smiled, and continued smiling the entire morning.  It made Alana’s chest hurt.  She avoided his eyes during the entire ceremony, but Will and Hannibal only had eyes for each other.  They’d decided to waive the thirty-foot restriction for the duration of the ceremony, and this was the closest they’d been to each other in six months, even if they were both bound and masked.

“You may now kiss,” the chaplain said, followed by an embarrassed silence.

Alana sighed and stepped forward.  She undid Hannibal’s mask, and then Will’s, and nodded to the orderlies.  They turned the dollies.  Alana watched their lips meet and braced herself for whatever terrible thing was surely going to happen next.


	16. He Walked Out With Me (Hannibal, Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [yo what do you think of will crying really big sad tears when he goes to visit hannibal in his glass cage for the first time?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135364213542/yo-what-do-you-think-of-will-crying-really-big-sad)

Will stopped at a liquor store on his way back to his motel room.   _Whiskey for dinner, Will?_  said a voice in his ear.  It spoke with an accent that might once have been Baltic, but had turned mushy after decades of living in the United States.  Will fought hard not to look behind him for the person that he knew wasn’t there.

He stopped at a drive-thru and got a chicken sandwich to go with his whiskey.  Someone sighed in the back seat.  Will ate in the car, taking bites at red lights, and by the time he reached the motel all that remained of his dinner was a wadded up wrapper and a greasy paper bag in the passengers seat.  He got out of the car without looking at any of the mirrors and went to his room, paper bag of whiskey clutched in his hand.

“You’re upset,” the voice observed.

“Of course I’m upset,” Will said through his teeth as he slammed the motel door shut behind him, and then he was even more upset that he was  _talking to himself_.  He flung his jacket on the bed, cranked up the heat, and opened the bottle.

“What is it that upset you?”

“You know.”  Will got the glass from the bathroom and filled it with three fingers of whiskey.  He knocked it back in two swallows and poured himself another one.

“Drinking won’t make me leave you,” said Hannibal.  “I’ll still be there when you wake up tomorrow.  And the day after.  Waiting for you.”

“I know, I know.”  Will pinched the bridge of his nose with the hand that wasn’t holding the glass.  “I know where you are,” he said.  The words came out thick and heavy and resigned.  “I’ll always know where you are.”


	17. Is That a Wolf? (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Hannibal and Will in hiding, Hanni doesn't want a dog and will only accept a pure bred](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135430496512/hannibal-and-will-in-hiding-hanni-doesnt-want-a) and they'll get it once they're no longer on hype la,b but will ends up coming across a dog in the woods accept its a wolf so technically Hannibal can't get mad because what's more pure than a wolf?

Will waited.  People stared, but they were not staring at him.

Something happened, as people walked toward him.  Their heads would dip, their gazes drop to somewhere by his waist or his feet.  Maybe once glance up at Will, but their looks would soon bend again.  If it was more than one person walking together, they might start whispering to each other and pointing.  They’d continue onward with their heads craned over their shoulders.

One brave woman approached him.  “Excuse me,” she said, her eyes downcast.  “Is that–is that a wolf?”

“No,” said Will, with an easy smile.  “She’s a Tamaskan dog.  They were bred to look like wolves.”

“You must get that question all the time,” the woman said with a little embarrassed laugh.

“Not as much as you’d think,” said Will.  “Would you like to pet her?  She’s very friendly.  Her name is Cassie.”

The woman bent to pat Cassie on the head.  Cassie grinned up at her.  The woman thanked Will and moved on.  Eventually, Hannibal came out of the bakery with a bagful of bread and pastries.  Cassie sat at attention, but Hannibal ignored her.

“Someone asked me if Cassie was a wolf,” Will told him.

“Oh?” said Hannibal.  “That was very bold.”

They fell into step beside Hannibal, heading for home.  “This was a good idea,” said Will.  “Hardly anyone looks at me.  They just look at her, wondering if she’s a wolf.”

“That was the idea,” said Hannibal, sounding very smug as he said it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [wolves do not make good pets](http://yamnuskawolfdogsanctuary.com/resources/wolf-to-woof/do-wolves-make-good-pets/), and also [pls do not call your dog a wolf](http://wolfdogeducation.com/), misrepresentation kills, thank you and good night


	18. Prostate Milking 2 (Hannibal/Will, explicit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I desperately need a continuation of Will milking Hannibal's prostate, so could I please prompt you for that? :D](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135473384607/i-desperately-need-a-continuation-of-will-milking)

“Stop, stop,” Hannibal hissed.

Will froze. He even held his breath. Hannibal took several deep breaths, sheets still gathered in his fists. His cock was leaking so profusely that it was hard for Will to watch.

“I was about to come,” Hannibal said after a few hard, panting moments. “Could you feel it?”

He had; he’d felt something twitching, contracting, a coil ready to be unleashed. And he’d felt, too, a change in the rhythm of Hannibal’s breathing and his heartbeat. “Yes,” Will said.

“You can start moving again.”

Will did, but it was to withdraw his fingers. Instead of massaging Hannibal’s prostate as he’d been before, Will pressed around the edges of Hannibal’s hole. Hannibal stirred and seemed restive, but when Will dipped his fingers back inside and curved them up, Hannibal sighed.

“Someday,” said Hannibal, “you won’t need me to tell you when to stop. You’ll know how to draw it out all on your own.”

“Will you beg?” Will asked.

“Will you make me?” Hannibal answered.


	19. Scars (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I don't know if you've written one already, but Will exploring Hannibal's scars?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135609351477/i-dont-know-if-youve-written-one-already-but)

The first time they undressed in front of each other, Will found that he could not look at Hannibal’s face.  He didn’t want to see the look in Hannibal’s eyes when he gazed upon Will’s body.  Strange, he thought, that it should make such a different now, when they’d already seen each other in various states of nakedness.  But this was the first time it was so conscious and deliberate, and so Will looked at Hannibal’s nipple, the inside of his elbow, the tip of his chin.

When Hannibal turned around to place his folded clothes on the chair, Will saw the circle of raised scar tissue on Hannibal’s back, white with age.  It was so large and thick that Hannibal must feel it pull against his skin every time he hunched his back.  “What is that?” he wondered.

“Mason,” Hannibal replied.  “He wanted me to have the pig’s experience, you recall.”

Will winced.  Hannibal turned around, took Will’s hand in his, and pressed it to his face.  “This one Jack gave me, and this one,” his arm, “and here,” another one on his arm.  He turned his forearm toward Will, showing him how pale and hairless it was compared to the rest of his body.  “The scars that your orderly gave me are gone.  I hated them and treasured them; they were yours, but not given by your hand.“

Now, finally, Will looked up.  Hannibal’s eyes were dark and bottomless.  He felt his hand, still in Hannibal’s, pressed against his belly, covering the smile that Hannibal had given him what felt like a lifetime ago.

“You’ve yet to leave your mark on me,” said Hannibal.  “At least, not a visible one.”

Will swallowed.  “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” said Hannibal.  “Cover them up, the old ones.  Make a new past.”


	20. Bocchan (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [So I saw this post where Will bring married to Hannibal technically makes him a Count](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135615089267/so-i-saw-this-post-where-will-bring-married-to) and so maybe a prompt where someone refers to him as such and he's like what? Or Hannibal or someone teaches him some 'Count-y' things

“Why does Chiyoh call you ‘bow-chan’?” Will asked.

Hannibal gave him a contemplative look.  “Your accent isn’t completely execrable.  Perhaps you should be learning Japanese.”

“We’re not going to Japan,” Will said.  “We’d stick out way too much there.  What does ‘bow-chan’ mean?”

“Bocchan,” Hannibal corrected him.  “It means…hmm.  It was a nickname my aunt gave me when I was much younger and she was teasing me.  I quite fancied myself the young lord of the castle then and thought it meant I could order around anyone I liked, including my relatives.”

“So it means, what, young lord?”

“No.”  Hannibal smiled.  “But it’s a rather familiar term that a servant uses for the young son of the employer, or at least that was the impression I received.  Chiyoh was quite young herself when she heard my aunt use it and so I believe it’s quite entrenched, even though I am in no way her bocchan.  She’s younger than me, to begin with.”

The silence stretched out between them.  Will still expected to hear the rhythm of the ocean outside.  But they were on dry land now, and it was strange to not feel the sway.  Will expected the floor to pitch and throw him down.

“How did it feel, to find out that I’m a Count?” said Hannibal.  “To see the house that I grew up in?”

Will thought back to that damp and crumbling ruin, covered in ivy and moss.  It’d seemed like a cold and impersonal place to grow up in, so large you could lose your family in it.

“Chiyoh said you wouldn’t go back there, that it wasn’t safe for you,” said Will.  “There are holes in the floor of the mind.”

“You found them,” Hannibal agreed.  “And did you fall through?”

“Yes,” Will said.  “I did.”


	21. Hannibal Meets Will's Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [If you're taking prompts then how about one where Hannibal gets introduced to Will's dad for the holidays and rampant awkwardness ensues?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135668995317/if-youre-taking-prompts-then-how-about-one-where)

“Are you quite sure he can be trusted?” Hannibal asked.

“He’s my father,” Will replied, which wasn’t any sort of answer at all.  But Hannibal trusted Will, if nothing else–he had to.

They were lucky enough to find a car idling outside of a gas station.  Will drove them far too fast on narrow roads through dark green countryside.  The air was muggy and thick with mosquitoes, and the sky was crowded with stars.  Hannibal gazed up at the moon through the window and took shallow breaths around the pain in his side.

Will “Billy” Graham Senior lived in a trailer home in the middle of nowhere.  A pickup truck even older than Will’s wagon sat outside, and two dogs chained to a hitch started up a furious chorus of barking when the car pulled up.  Will killed the engine and turned to Hannibal.  “I should probably go in by myself first.”

Hannibal nodded.  Will got out of the car and went up to the door.  The door opened to admit a rectangle of yellow light silhouetting someone about Will’s height but much wider.  The dogs continued to bark until a sharp word from the man in the doorway cut them off.  Hannibal considered just driving away and leaving Will here.  Eventually, Will came back to the car.

“Come on up,” Will said.

Bill Graham was balding, with a pronounced pot belly, rough hands, and forearms corded with muscle.  Hannibal had no idea what Will had told him, and so he said nothing.  He thought Will must have taken after his mother, but then he saw the way Mr. Graham regarded him with sharp blue eyes and revised his estimation.

“My son tells me you’re looking for a boat,” said Mr. Graham.

“Yes,” said Hannibal.  “Seaworthy, and as soon as possible.”

“I don’t have any boats like that right now,” said Mr. Graham.  “But I could maybe find you one in a day or two.  You’ll stay here until then.”

“We really shouldn’t,” Will said in a low voice.  “It’s–”

“You’ll stay here,” Mr. Graham said.  “The police won’t give you no trouble here.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal said.

True to his word, Mr. Graham found them a boat the very next day, and even helped them provision it, waving off Will’s increasingly strident protestations that they had money.  Finally, after the stolen car had been abandoned, after both Will and Hannibal were on board and ready to cast off, after they had already stayed much too long, Will said, “Dad, you might hear some things, in the news–”

Mr. Graham shook his head.  “They don’t know a goddamn thing,” he said.  “Not a goddamn thing.  I know my son.”

Will swallowed.  “Thanks, Dad.”

“I know,” he said.  “Now get going.”


	22. Duck Press (Hannibal, Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [hannibal prompt - hannibal using a duck press](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135730193977/hannibal-prompt-hannibal-using-a-duck-press)

“This is a lot of work for one meal,” Will remarked.

“It is as much about the process as the final result,” Hannibal said, “as you have told me about fishing.  Although the final result is exquisite as well.”  He set the legs and breast meat of the duck aside and loaded the rest of the carcass–bones, sinew, skin, and all–into the silver dome of the duck press.

Watching Hannibal twist the wheel at the top of the press tugged at some memory in the back of Will’s mind.  It took him a moment to place it: Hannibal in the back of a stolen ambulance, his sleeves rolled up to reveal well-muscled forearms, that same look of intense focus and concentration on his face.  Will had known something about Hannibal then, though it would take him years to put words to it.  He’d known something about himself then too, and how much he liked seeing Hannibal like that.  In his element.

Brown liquid trickled out of the chute at the bottom of the press and into a jar.  “That’s appetizing,” Will said.

“Bathed in its own blood,” Hannibal murmured.  “There’s nothing richer.”

Hannibal gave the wheel a final twist.  Will thought he could hear the crunch of bones giving way.  The liquid continued to flow.  He could smell it: blood and marrow and fat.  All the things that made a duck good to eat.

“I’ll make the extract into a sauce, to serve with the breast, for the first course,” Hannibal said.  “The legs will served as the second course.”

“The press must be hell to clean, afterward,” said Will.


	23. In Sync (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I love it when Will and Hannibal move in sync. So could you please write about other characters commenting on it when Will and Hannibal mirror each other?](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135830107127/i-love-it-when-will-and-hannibal-move-in-sync-so)

“And how do you know the Mr. Lyon and Mr. Lachange?” asked Mrs. Varela.

“Oh, we met them at the symphony.”

“I met Mr. Lyon while I was out walking my dogs.”

So on and so forth.  Miss Silva, coming back from the restroom, scurried over to the gathering and said, “Have any of you seem them work?”  At their querying looks, she clarified, “In the kitchen.  I poked my head in just now to ask if they wanted any help, but I ended up not saying anything because I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Well, with that sort of introduction, how could any of them resist?  Mr. Varela and Mr. Martin opted to stay behind and work on the charcuterie, but the rest of the guests peered into the kitchen entryway.

Mr. Lyon was tossing a salad with his hands.  Behind him, Mr. Lachange opened the oven and withdrew a sheet of croutons.  Lyon turned with the empty jar of salad dressing in his hand; it seemed inevitable that they were going to bump into each other; but Lachange pivoted the other direction and set the hot sheet on the island behind him.  Lyon set the jar in the sink, and he and Lachange switched places, as Lachange grated cheese onto the salad while Lyon drained the pasta.

“This is dinner _and_  theatre!” Mrs. Varela exclaimed.

“They could sell tickets,” Mr. Sosa agreed.

“How do you think Mr. Lyon got that dreadful scar on his face?” Miss Silva wondered.

Lachange leaned toward Lyon, who leaned back.  The spies could see Lachange’s lips moving, but they couldn’t make out what was being heard.  Lyon nodded; Lachange tipped the croutons onto the salad and turned.  The assembled scurried back to the sideboard where Mr. Varela and Mr. Martin had finished nearly all the cured meat.

“I’m sorry we’ve left you for so long,” Mr. Lachange said as he set the salad on the table.  “That was terribly rude.  Have you been able to amuse yourself in our absence?”

“Oh, yes.”  Miss Silva nodded assiduously.  “It’s been just fascinating.”


	24. Carrying (Hannibal/Will)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Hannibal carrying Will again? Except this time he's awake for it](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/post/135876205282/hannibal-carrying-will-again-except-this-time)

Will announced his consciousness with a loud grunt.  “Fuck, I hurt all over.”

Hannibal was hardly in better condition.  "You were the one who wanted to renovate the pond on the property.  You said you wanted to stock it with fish.”

“Yeah.”  Will rolled to face the ceiling, a smile pulling across his face.  “Catfish.  God, I miss catfish.”

“We could have paid men to do the work for us.”

“ _You_  could have paid men to do the work for us, but I’m not paying people to do work I can do myself.  That I _want_  to do myself.  Don’t tell me it didn’t feel good to finally get that tree out of there.”

It had, Hannibal had to admit, felt very good.  There had been a sweaty, masculine triumph that in the past he’d felt upon the completion of a very good murder display.  Like placing the last poisonous bloom in Councilman Sheldon Isley’s chest cavity, stepping back, and taking a deep breath at a job well done.  Only this time it was the muddy remains of a tree that had grown at the bottom of where there had once been a pond, and where Will wanted there to be a pond again.

“Ugh, I need to pee, but I don’t want to get out of bed,” Will muttered.

“I could carry you,” Hannibal offered, though he didn’t feel very much up to the task.

“What?  No; you’ll throw out your back.”

“I’ve carried you before,” Hannibal pointed out, feeling affronted.

Will heaved himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  “And then you’ll want to hold my dick while I piss, too.”

That had not occurred to Hannibal, but now that it had, he was very interested.  “Only if you need the help.”

“You’re disgusting,” Will said affectionately.  “Come join me in the shower, whenever you can move.”  And he shuffled off to the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!
> 
>  
> 
> [coloredink.tumblr.com](http://coloredink.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [sumiwrites.wordpress.com](https://sumiwrites.wordpress.com/) (if you wanna see the books I've written)


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